Struggling to get a clear vision of the new world order, the Navy is formulating new doctrine for maneuver warfare and combat in the littorals. Before these new philosophies are embraced, however, they must be examined carefully, tested and trained to, and then reexamined, to ensure that what emerges will be sound, flexible, and successful under fire.
After World War II—and for most of my naval career—world politics were polarized. Duty was clear; the great adversary of the Free World was the Soviet Union. Even as late as May 1989, when I graduated from the Naval War College at Newport, the curriculum was directed toward defense of Europe and defeat of the Soviet Navy.
Then the unthinkable happened. The Evil Empire collapsed, along with the Berlin Wall. The old adversary again was a potential ally, and old ways of doing business no longer seemed applicable. We were left to peer into a dark glass, desperately trying to glimpse the new order.
In September 1992, the Secretary of the Navy set out a new direction in “.. . From the Sea.” This soon was followed by the sequel, “Forward . . . From the Sea.” With the demise of the Soviet Navy, our concepts of sea power would be modified to emphasize combat in the littorals or coastal waters, while placing less emphasis on open-ocean combat. A new series of doctrinal publications reflecting this change was authorized. Since the publication of Naval Doctrine Publication 1 (NDP-1), several articles also have appeared in Proceedings, highlighting the virtues of maneuver warfare. The concepts of war in the littorals and maneuver then were combined in the seminar “Maneuvering in the Littorals,” which soon followed.
Apparently, a new bandwagon is rolling today. The U.S. Navy is formulating new and improved doctrine, and the wise professional mindful of his punched ticket should jump on.
On the other hand, the lessons of history and gut feeling say that this task should not be entered lightly. Policy now being developed could influence the focus and composition of the Fleet well into the 21st century. It will be successful if the policymakers guess correctly. If they do not, such failure has the potential to worsen the lives of future generations. The prudent navigator, therefore, will examine the underlying assumptions of the new philosophy, before waving the “little blue book” and acclaiming the virtues of maneuver warfare.
Doctrine—and its potential for long-term influence—is not new to the U.S. Navy. Beginning in the last two decades of the 19th century and for most of the 20th century, the world’s leading naval powers have followed the doctrine of sea power promulgated by Alfred Thayer Mahan. Although naval strategists and historians still argue about the influence—for good or ill—of Mahan, the fact remains that this U.S. naval officer, the son of a West Point tactics instructor, has had a significant influence on naval policy and world history.
For example, Mahan hypothesized that Rome triumphed over Carthage in the Second Punic War because it controlled the sea lines of communication between Italy and North Africa. This and other observations were incorporated into The Influence of Seapower Upon History, 1660 to 1783, a book that shaped naval doctrine for nearly a century. The proper focus of any navy. Mahan wrote, was the destruction of any enemy naval force that had the potential to deny sea control and interrupt sea lines of communication.
From this theory, Mahan postulated the strategy that a fleet of battleships was the primary naval force needed to maintain sea control. Cruisers and lesser combatants did not constitute a navy because they could not stand up to an enemy battle fleet. Mahan further deduced from this premise that because sea control was vital, commerce raiding was a lower priority than destruction of the enemy fleet.
Mahan’s writings became an international sensation. Theodore Roosevelt, an ardent disciple, was convinced that Mahan’s notion of a combined fleet required the United States to have a canal through Central America. Only then could the Atlantic and Pacific fleets support each other effectively. After failing to convince Colombia to sell Panama, Roosevelt fomented a revolution—an act that still colors our relations with Latin America.
Kaiser Wilhelm, another disciple of Mahan, devoured the book. If Germany were to become a world power, it would need colonies and a navy to protect them. Imperial Germany thus began a naval buildup that eventually led to a naval arms race with Great Britain, which ended with the outbreak of World War I.
Ironically, had Germany not followed Mahan’s teachings on commerce raiding, the Imperial Navy might have had more than 18 submarines at the beginning of World War I. Even these few were enough to nearly cut Great Britain’s sea lines of communication, without ever confronting the British Home Fleet.
Mahan’s tenets also were studied at the Japanese Naval Academy. Leading Japanese admirals, steeped in warrior tradition, readily incorporated his concept that the true focus had to be the enemy fleet. In 1905, on the eve of the Battle of Tsushima—a decisive blow against the Russian Baltic fleet—Admiral Togo issued to the Imperial Fleet a truly Mahanian statement: “The fate of the Empire rests on this battle.”
With both sides well versed in the teachings of Mahan, it was no accident that the overriding naval strategy of the early period of World War II in the Pacific was an attempt by each side to lure the other into a decisive battle to destroy the enemy fleet. Pearl Harbor, Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto’s master stroke, was meant to be the decisive strike that crippled the U.S. Pacific fleet, leaving the Philippines and The Dutch East Indies open to attack. History would reveal the flaw in this strategy. The proper target (and critical vulnerability) was not the battleships moored at Ford Island but the less-glamorous oil tanks on Oahu. With the oil-storage facilities destroyed, no U.S. ships would have been able to operate out of Pearl for any distance, not even the carriers.
Admiral Yamamoto’s next attempt to destroy the U.S. Pacific fleet at Midway cost the Imperial Japanese Navy four front-line carriers. Admiral Nagumo, blinded by the fog of war, shifted his aim from Midway Island to the U.S. fleet, failing to anticipate that U.S. carrier aircraft would attack his carriers while they were refueling and rearming aircraft.
Later, Admiral Ozawa took the Mobile Fleet into the Philippine Sea, attempting to gain a Jutland-style decisive victory. In the resulting battle, the Japanese lost 346 planes to better-trained and better-equipped U.S. pilots.
The Japanese commanders were not alone in being blinded by Mahanian dogma. After Pearl Harbor, destruction of the Japanese carriers became the U.S. Navy’s primary goal. Admiral Chester Nimitz directed that in case opportunity for destruction of a major portion of the enemy feet was offered or could be created, such destruction became the primary task. Adhering to this directive. Admiral “Bull” Halsey left San Bernadino Strait unguarded, to deliver a decisive blow against Ozawa’s carriers. Only the heroism of Admiral Clifton Sprague’s command and Admiral Takeo Kurita’s loss of nerve saved General Douglas Mac Arthur’s troops from destruction at Leyte Gulf.
After two world wars, most of Mahan’s ideas have fallen from grace. The carrier replaced the battleship as the primary capital ship, and the submarine demonstrated that—when used properly—it could bring an industrialized country to its knees with unrestricted submarine warfare, a new technology for commerce raiding. Mahan’s basic tenet, however—that control of the sea lines of communication is essential for victory—has withstood trial by combat and still is valid.
Before discounting attrition warfare and open-ocean combat to focus on maneuver warfare and combat in the littorals, however, we should test the new tenets thoroughly. There’s the rub. The only certain test for doctrine is combat, but combat is final. If our doctrine is flawed, we cannot start over again until we get it right.
There is an alternative to actual combat that can be used to develop and test doctrine: the clash of conflicting opinions, based on a study of history, rationally argued in seminars and publications. The results of such discussion then can be used to design drills, computer simulations, and free- play exercises, to test doctrinal assumptions. Sound doctrine can emerge if the proud parents of new ideas are detached enough to allow others to attack their mental offspring with razors of logic but assertive enough to rebut the attacks.
The first hurdle for the new doctrine comes with the definition of the word. According to Webster's, doctrine is a theory based on carefully worked out principles and is taught or advocated by its adherents. To the Marine Corps, it is teaching fundamental beliefs: a particular way of thinking about war, a way of fighting, a philosophy for leading in combat. Doctrine thus is fundamental to the naval profession, but no one except academics and underworked reservists will bother learning or applying the new doctrine if the Navy does not demonstrate firm support for these beliefs, by making awareness of them necessary for professional advancement. Furthermore, teaching or advocating any body of belief or knowledge is futile until students learn the material and can apply it to problem solving.
Differences in Army, Marine Corps, and Navy tenets on the nature of maneuver warfare demonstrate that the combat services are still far from a truly joint doctrine. In NDP-1, two styles of warfare—attrition and maneuver— are described as common doctrine for naval forces. Attrition is the application of strength against strength, wearing the enemy down through the systematic application of overwhelming force that reduces the enemy’s ability or capacity to resist. According to Marine Corps doctrine, “warfare by attrition seeks victory through the cumulative destruction of the enemy’s material assets by superior firepower and technology.”1
Maneuver warfare is presented as the preferred approach to naval combat and is assumed to be more effective than attrition warfare. Maneuver focuses combat power on the enemy’s key weaknesses and vulnerabilities. This approach strikes the enemy’s source of power, the key to his strength and existence as a military threat. Attrition is based on firepower; maneuver is based on movement. Incompetence in the application of maneuver warfare has a greater probability of catastrophic failure; attrition is inherently less risky. By implication, only the less-skilled commander resorts to attrition warfare.
Army doctrine does not talk of styles of warfare. Maneuver, firepower, protection, and leadership combine to create the dynamics of combat power.2 Commanders seek to apply overwhelming combat power to achieve victory at minimal cost. Maneuver is the means of positioning forces at decisive points to achieve surprise, psychological shock, physical momentum, massed effect, and moral dominance. Successful maneuver requires anticipation and mental agility.
These differences are not an apparent problem when the Navy is focused primarily on open-ocean combat, which requires little support from other forces. But all sides of the debate probably will agree that successful joint operations in the littorals require that the services share the same fundamental concepts of warfare.
Maneuver warfare may not be totally good, and attrition warfare may not be totally bad. Sun Tzu’s maneuver philosophy did not save China from the Golden Horde in the 12th century or rapacious Europeans in the 19th. In fact, his admonition to the commander in the field to disregard the orders of the Emperor when necessary is diametrically opposed to U.S. political doctrine: civilian control of the military. The Imperial Japanese Navy developed a doctrine of maneuver warfare after World War I. Yet this philosophy, which bore fruit in devastating night torpedo attacks in the Solomons, failed to save Japan from a giant filled with a terrible resolve, focused on attrition. In many of the examples previously discussed, application of a warfare style often was forced on the commander by the specifics of the situation. Maneuver was not always superior to attrition. As Major General Atkeson wrote recently, “The gun may be an encumbrance to the maneuver purist, but the wise man does not leave home without it when headed for a bad neighborhood.”3
According to NDP-1, success in naval warfare is founded on proper application of sound doctrine. Application is the critical vulnerability of maneuver warfare, particularly for leaders unfamiliar with its subtleties. The commander who has never practiced maneuver warfare will hesitate to embrace it under the high stress of combat. Sun Tzu recognized this long ago: “If officers are unaccustomed to rigorous drilling they will be worried and hesitant in battle.”4 Since the rational approach is to avoid combat whenever possible, most senior officers have limited combat experience.
The only alternative is realistic training, but in this era of doing more with less, the temptation for well-meaning politicians and senior staff officers is to cut training to balance budgets, rather than face the tougher political choice of reducing commitments. New and improved doctrine can be used to rationalize short-run cuts in training and equipment that result in long-term reduced capabilities. Attrition, which depends more on superiority in men and equipment than on competence, then becomes the fallback warfare style.
An additional challenge to maneuver warfare application is that people make mistakes while learning. In fact, they usually learn more from mistakes than from successes. Seniors must create a training environment in which people are not punished for honest mistakes made while applying new, unfamiliar procedures. Sometimes these mistakes can have disastrous results, but senior officers, even in the face of unrelenting pressure, must recognize the difference between a well-meant shortcoming—which can be rectified through training—and a stupid blunder.
Finally, the danger inherent in any doctrine is that without careful, critical examination, testing, and reexamination it can deteriorate—as did Mahan’s teachings—into a positive, arrogant assertion of opinion. This rigid mind-set, called dogma, can become a mental straitjacket for a commander when a specific set of events require flexible thinking. Adaptability—which comes from thorough, realistic training—is needed to penetrate the fog of war.
Doctrine without training is a futile academic exercise in useless verbiage that can deteriorate into dogma; training without doctrine, on the other hand, lacks direction and can deteriorate into a waste of limited resources.
1 H. T. Hayden, Warfighting, Maneuver Warfare in the U.S. Marine Corps (London: Greenhill Books, 1995) pp. 204.
2 Field Manual 100-5, Operations, Department of the Army, 1993.
3 MGen. E. B. Atkeson, USA (Ret.), “Maneuvering Past Maneuver Warfare," U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, January 1996, pp. 33-35.
4 Sun Tzu, The Art of War, trans. S. B. Griffith (London: Oxford University Press) pp. 197.
Captain Pehl, a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy and the Naval War College, is director of compliance for CDR Environmental, Inc., in Houston. His current reserve assignment is commanding officer, VTU 1007G.